(poems go here) Many people fear change.
They fear the vulnerability.
They fear the need to adapt.
They fear the lesson that they may learn.
It is frightening to be new, to be out of your element,
and to be a year shy of everyone.
Because everyone is watching.
Not hoping for a mistake,
or a marvel,
just something. Anything.
Then there are those spectators who are the reason for the fear of change.
Those malicious spectators who jeer
and threaten your life.
They hate that you are new.
They hate that their men are fascinated by you.
They hate your curly hair and your yellow skin and the letters on your card.
And they take advantage of you.
They take advantage of your small stature and your painfully young age.
They send you home to your mother with a swollen and salty visage
and a destroyed confidence that she had once built into you.
They send you to your sheets with hidden tears and shadowed hope
and the need for a prescription…
Then at the very bottom,
where light no longer exists,
that is where the love finds you.
Now it is good that you are small, for it is effortless for your friends to lift you.
Now it is good that you are young yet ahead.
Because you’ve graduated and left them in your dust.
And now you are first chair.
Now you have been accepted into your school.
You sing and you dance and you are loved.
And you have learned.
And you have grown.
They had pushed you down and stomped on you
and broken you.
But yet you rose.
It took a lot of doing and a lot of courage,
but it is over now for them.
But it will never be over for you.
You will still learn and grow and be loved.
You will still rise.
You will always rise.